


Chance Meeting

by SasuNarufan13



Series: Careful What You Say [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Scorpius' pov, Set in the beginning of the story, Side story to Self-fulfilling Prophecy, Small time skips, So it fills in some blanks, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7993084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SasuNarufan13/pseuds/SasuNarufan13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, Scorpius would state that the day he met Harry changed his life significantly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: Took me a while but I finally managed to finish Scorpius' pov. Yay for sucky time management ORL So anyway, this is a oneshot which takes place around the beginning of Self-fulfilling Prophecy; it kind of fills in some blanks if you will. You don't have to have read SP to be able to follow this story, though.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.
> 
> I hope you'll like it!

**Chance Meeting**

He was levitated out of the bath with a firm snap of long, spidery fingers. His blond hair was carefully towelled dry while the rest of his body was wrapped up in a large, soft towel.

When the house elf – the one personally assigned to him – helped him pull his pyjamas on, he asked softly, "Is father home, Mimmy?"

Large, blue eyes regarded him calmly. "Master Malfoy just home, Master Scorpius."

"Can I – I want to go see him," Scorpius said and unconsciously his fingers started fiddling with a button in the form of a dragon's head that had been sewn onto his pocket.

Mimmy looked uncertain, but a quick glance at the round clock made her nod. "Not too long, Master Scorpius. You needs be in bed on time," she fussed and after brushing his hair, she guided him to father's study.

He was greeted by the gentle crackle of the flames dancing merrily in the fireplace when Mimmy opened the heavy door.

"Master Malfoy, Master Scorpius wanting to see you," she announced in her squeaky voice.

"Send him in," Father replied from somewhere behind the door.

Mimmy bowed and closed the door behind the seven year old after he entered the room.

A glass with an amber coloured liquid was placed on the low, wooden table in front of the marble fireplace. Father was in the progress of removing red robes – the colour signifying that he was an Auror now. Father had decided a year ago that he wanted to be an Auror and had exchanged his potions lab for the Auror training. Today had been his first day officially working and Scorpius wondered how it had gone.

A thin eyebrow rose when Scorpius halted next to the chocolate brown armchair. "It's nearly bedtime, Scorpius," Father remarked and laid the robes over the back of the large, leather chair behind the wide, heavy desk.

"I know, but I – I wanted to ask about your work," Scorpius said shyly and brought his hands together.

Father stilled for a moment, before he rolled his shoulders and made his way to the brown armchair. "It was mainly paperwork," he said and after a short pause, he continued in a peculiar tone, "I met my partner today."

Scorpius perked up. He knew Aurors usually worked in a team of two and he was curious as to who father was partnered up with. "Who is your partner?" he questioned curiously.

"Harry Potter," Father replied stiffly and picked up the glass with the sharp smelling drink.

"Oh," Scorpius uttered surprised, taken aback by father's answer.

He knew who Harry Potter was, of course. Every child grew up with stories about the great war hero; the man who had saved their entire world.

That wasn't to say that the boy knew a lot about Harry Potter. He knew that his father had been in the same year as Mister Potter, so they had known each other, but father barely talked about him. Most of his knowledge on Mister Potter – which wasn't much – came from the history books he had found in their private library.

Mother had once mentioned offhandedly that father and Mister Potter had never managed to get along well. Scorpius was still confused about that – everyone always said how nice Mister Potter was, so how was it possible that father disliked him? The seven year old had never dared to question his father about it, because the older man had always had a dour look on his face whenever Mister Potter was mentioned.

Father chuckled darkly and took a sip of his drink. "Exactly _'oh'_ ," he murmured; the myriad of emotions lurking in the depths of his eyes too complicated for the small boy to decipher.

"Is it bad?" Scorpius questioned hesitatingly.

The older man slowly breathed out and regarded his glass contemplatively. "I suppose I could have been assigned worse partners," he replied wryly and rolled his shoulders. "A small blessing perhaps."

At least father wasn't too terribly bothered by it.

"How were classes?" Father inquired idly, placing the glass back on the table.

"Good; they were good." Not boring, but not interesting either. At least Mrs. Goodling had only assigned them a chapter to read instead of the three page essay she had been threatening with.

"Did you find anyone interesting to befriend?" Father questioned; his grey eyes – ones that Scorpius had inherited – studied him sharply.

Shame burning in his belly, the young boy shook his head. "N-no. It – we didn't have a lot of free time," he muttered, avoiding father's gaze.

He didn't like talking about this; father would occasionally inquire about possible friends, but Scorpius could never bring any good news. Simply no one was interested in being friends with him. Sure, they talked sometimes, but during their free time he was always on his own. It was embarrassing and humiliating. He didn't know why nobody liked him; his classmates' indifference really hurt him and made him wish at times that he was somewhere else.

"I'm sure you'll find a friend soon," Father reassured him. He flicked his eyes at his watch. "Time for you to go to sleep now, Scorpius."

Scorpius nodded. "Good night, father."

"Good night."

* * *

Scorpius met his father's partner officially a month later. After being brought home by Aunt Pansy – who had to hurry to her hairdresser's appointment – he placed his bag on the floor and accepted the vanilla and honey flavoured cookie a house elf handed him before the creature picked up his bag and popped out of the room.

Right when he was contemplating whether to go to the kitchen for another snack or go to his room to make a start on his homework, an unexpected bark of laughter made him jump in fright.

"Your sense of humour is still plebeian I see," Father remarked sharply and Scorpius' eyes widened.

Father was home already? It was barely four thirty!

Thoughts about a second snack were discarded as he hurried towards the room from where father's voice was drifting out.

"Father, you're home!" he chirped and opened the door wider … Only to see father sporting bright pink hair. "Father?" he asked bewildered.

Father let out a dismayed sound and scowled, flicking his wand at his hair as he went through a series of spells.

"There goes your image as the infallible father."

Grey eyes shot from his father to the man leaning with his hip against the couch, arms crossed. Bright green eyes landed on him and Scorpius squeaked when he realised just who was standing there.

_Harry Potter._

"Hello there," Mister Potter smiled friendly, giving a short wave. "You must be Scorpius."

Shyness hitting him once again, the boy lingered in the doorway; his cheeks heating up as he waved meekly back. "Y-yes, it's nice t-to meet you, Mister Potter," he stammered, feeling completely unbalanced.

"Call me Harry," the older man chuckled and winked. "No need to be so formal."

"That's called being polite," Father snipped and with one final wave of his wand, the pink lightened, turning into the familiar shade of blond. "Finally got rid of it." Father held a blond lock between thumb and index finger, studying it critically.

"What a shame," Mister Po-Harry remarked teasingly. "I wanted to take a picture of it."

"Piss off, Potter," Father grumbled and frowned when he looked at Scorpius, who was still hovering in the doorway. "Where's Pansy, Scorpius?"

"She has to go to the hairdresser now, so she brought me home," Scorpius explained, fiddling with his sleeves.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something that made Harry snort.

"Don't think she's going to agree with that," he remarked sceptically and then stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders. He quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "Do you think you still need some help or can I go home?"

Father scoffed and threw him a withering glare. "If I recall correctly, I didn't need your help. Your hero complex convinced you to follow me home." He sniffed and waved the dark haired man off.

Harry rolled his eyes and snatched his cloak from the couch. "Excuse me for daring to help you."

"Apology accepted," Father said airily, removing his own robes.

"You're unbelievable," Harry muttered and made his way to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow at the office."

Father inclined his head and started removing his boots, clearly dismissing the other man.

Scorpius stepped hastily aside when Harry neared the door and the older man smiled.

"It was nice meeting you, Scorpius." He lowered his voice and continued conspiratorially, "If your dad's hair turns pink again, take a picture of it, will you?" He winked and then walked further down the hallway, disappearing into the foyer where the Floo was presumably waiting for him.

Scorpius blinked, a bit thrown off at the abrupt departure of Harry, and turned around, staring at father baffled. "Father, what happened?"

"It turns out your mother was right and Healing spells will never be my forte," Father answered contemplatively before he rose up and cocked his head. "Early dinner all right with you? If you want, I can help you with your homework afterwards."

Scorpius perked up and nodded quickly; any time spent with father – even if that meant doing homework – was always great.

The odd situation with the pink hair and Harry Potter being in the manor was pushed to the back of his mind for now.

* * *

He hadn't expected to see the older man again; he had thought that his visit had been an accident, a fluke. He was after all just father's work colleague and there was no reason for Scorpius to ever meet Harry Potter again.

But then two days later there was an emergency at Aunt Pansy's mother's home and she had to leave urgently which led to Scorpius standing wide eyed and stiffly in front of the fireplace in the Red Claw's office – father's office.

Father sighed and rubbed his forehead. He pursed his lips and with a quick flick of his wand, a part of his desk was cleared and a chair with comfortable looking cushions appeared in front of the empty space. "Looks like you'll be doing your homework here, Scorpius. It's still going to be a couple of hours before we can go home, but at least you can do your work here."

"Okay," Scorpius murmured and after a brief hesitation he walked over to the chair and rummaged through his bag, pulling out the book he had been assigned to read. He sat down on the chair, pleasantly surprised at how soft the cushions felt and opened the book, surreptitiously glancing at the files spread out over father's desk. Some of the files contained pictures, but Scorpius was sitting too far away to be able to really see the images clearly.

"Draco, Kingsley wants to s- oh, hello, Scorpius," Harry said surprised when he entered the office with a thick file clenched in his hand.

"Hello, Harry," Scorpius greeted him shyly, remembering the man's request to be called by his first name; the man's first name feeling foreign on his tongue. He had never been allowed to call an adult by their first name before and being allowed to do so now felt odd.

"I didn't know you were coming over," Harry continued and crossed the room to his desk, where a pile of files was teetering dangerously to the left.

"Pansy had an emergency at home and there's nobody else who can take care of him while I'm still at work," Father explained; the corners of his mouth pulling downwards in a frown and Scorpius squirmed a bit, feeling oddly guilty for some reason.

The dark haired man shrugged and plopped down in his seat, throwing the file carelessly on his desk. He yawned, hiding it behind one hand as he rubbed the back of his neck with the other. "No problem; I've brought James and Albus here before when Ginny had to leave," he said, almost dismissively, and grabbed a quill. "Anyway, Kingsley wants to talk to you."

"What, now?" Father asked disgruntled and when Scorpius glanced up, he discovered father looking at him peculiarly.

Harry seemed to have caught the look as well, because he said lightly, "Yes, now. I can keep an eye on Scorpius; it's not like you're going to be gone for a long time."

Father looked conflicted; he hesitated briefly before asking, "Scorpius, do you mind staying with Harry for a bit? I'll be back soon."

The blond boy cast a furtive glance at the dark haired man and blushed when emerald green eyes caught his; he received an encouraging smile and Scorpius slowly nodded. "I don't mind," he murmured and bit his lower lip, forcing himself to go back to the chapter he had to read.

Father rose up abruptly and walked briskly out of the office; his robes billowing behind him.

At first there was only silence in the room with the occasional sound of a page being turned or a quill scratching against paper and Scorpius felt himself relaxing, not understanding why he had been so tense in the first place. Staying with Harry in one room wasn't that much different from staying with father in a room after all. The man was quiet and even though Scorpius felt his eyes falling on him sometimes, the man never continued to stare and he didn't say anything either.

The seven year old had become quickly accustomed to the silence and therefore nearly jumped when a chair was shoved backwards, violently disrupting the silence.

"I'm going to get some coffee; do you want anything to drink, Scorpius?" Harry asked curiously; one hand holding a mug loosely.

Scorpius blinked and his fingers fiddled with the corner of page forty-four of his book. Shyly he answered, "Is there chocolate milk?"

It had become colder outside, but the house elves hadn't yet prepared their famous hot chocolate milk, apparently still deeming it too warm for the delicious drink. Not even Scorpius' near begging – because a Malfoy should never beg according to father – could convince the small creatures to come forth with the drink.

Harry smiled. "I think there is, yeah. Do you want it warm or cold?"

"Warm," Scorpius answered promptly.

"Warm chocolate milk it is," Harry chuckled. "Are you okay on your own for a few minutes? If there's something, just shout and I'll hear you immediately."

Scorpius nodded and the dark haired wizard left the room, humming softly to himself.

Now on his own the blond boy tried to go back to his reading assignment, but his concentration was lost as the sounds of the department could no longer be ignored. There was the whizzing sound of flying memos in the hallway; the scraping and squeaking of chairs as people shifted on them or drew them back; the scratching of quills and people talking: some murmuring, some laughing and some even arguing.

His grip on his book loosened as his gaze wandered around the office, taking note of the small trinkets that his father and Harry had placed down. On father's desk, there was a picture with a dark blue frame of him and Scorpius sitting next to a large Christmas tree; it had been taken last year, because Scorpius was wearing his dark blue sweater with the silver snitch on it that had been a gift from Aunt Pansy. Another smaller picture with a silver frame contained the picture of a beautiful, pale blonde haired woman with ice blue eyes who was clad in elegant, midnight blue robes: his grandmother.

He had yet to see his grandmother; father had explained that for the time being grandmother was living in another country and couldn't come home yet. They couldn't Floo each other either, because there were some connection problems. The question why they couldn't communicate through owl post had burned on Scorpius' tongue when father explained grandmother's absence, but father had had such a distant look that the boy hadn't dared to ask. They did have pictures of grandmother and grandfather and father did talk about them, but he couldn't wait to meet grandmother. He knew that he couldn't visit grandfather anymore, because the man had died a couple of years ago.

Aside from those pictures, father's desk was quite bare save for the files he needed for his work. Curiosity grew at seeing the files, but he restrained himself; knowing better than to snoop through the files. Father wouldn't be happy if he opened those.

His investigation of father's desk finished, his eyes unwillingly wandered towards Harry's side, which was a lot more cluttered than father's. Some plants were placed on the windowsill behind the empty chair; one plant had several white flowers glowing in the weak sunlight. Several drawings – clearly made by children – hung on the wall next to the desk, right underneath several awards. The desk had a collection of quills, parchment and several small, uneven towers of files; cluttered at the right corner of the desk were several picture frames and before he realised what he was doing, Scorpius had abandoned his chair and had walked around the desk to look at the pictures.

The nearest picture frame contained a lot of ginger haired people. The splash of orange reddish hair made Scorpius blink bemused as he studied it carefully. Harry was there in the middle with his wife next to him, widely grinning, as they were both flanked by a lanky man and a curly haired brunette. A man with a crooked smile stood next to the lanky one and on his left, another large man stood with a scarred face and a beautiful blonde lady wrapped in his arms. A smaller man with a stern face and glasses stood completely to the right, looking like he'd be rather somewhere else while he held hands with a sweet looking woman. On the other side of the curly haired woman, another ginger haired man stood with half long hair; this man was short and stocky and looked incredibly tan. The last two people in the picture were the oldest of the group; one was a woman with a gentle smile who waved at Scorpius and the other was a balding man who flashed him a grin.

So was this the Weasley family? It had to be, because Harry was married to a Weasley. Father had never mentioned them, but Scorpius had heard some paintings mentioning the family when they thought he couldn't hear them; his ancestors didn't have anything nice to say about the Weasleys, but they couldn't be that bad if Harry had married one of them, right?

A second picture standing a bit behind the family one just had Harry with the lanky man and the curly haired woman, all dressed in winter clothes with snow sticking to their eyelashes and hair as they laughed about something one of them had presumably said right before the picture was taken.

A third frame, a bit smaller than the previous two, had Harry in fancy robes dancing with his wife who wore wedding robes; the smile on their faces was blinding as they whirled around the dancefloor.

The fourth and last picture was taken in some sort of living room and had Harry sitting next to his wife on a couch; on the woman's lap she held a boy with brown eyes and rusty brown hair while the boy on Harry's lap – clearly the younger brother of the first one – was the spitting image of the older man: black, unruly hair and emerald green eyes that shone curiously as they looked at Scorpius.

"The boy on Ginny's lap is James and the other one is Albus."

Heartbeat skyrocketing, Scorpius jumped startled when Harry's voice piped up right next to him.

"Sorry for startling you," Harry chuckled and handed a steaming mug to the blond boy, who stared at him wide eyed. "Didn't mean to, but I saw you looking at the pictures."

Scorpius flushed and shuffled backwards; hands wrapped around the warm mug. "I'm sorry," he murmured; cheeks very warm. "I got curious."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, waving his hand as he sank down into his chair. "No harm done."

"Who's that boy behind the couch?" Scorpius blurted out when his attention was suddenly caught by a flash of bright purple hair. A teenager with a bright grin had popped up from behind the couch, slipping his arms around Harry's shoulders as he ruffled the boy's – Albus' – hair. The Harry in the picture turned his head, laughing, pushing the boy away as Albus fussed and shook his head.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, he winced; he knew better than to blurt out things like that and yet he had done just that now!

Harry didn't seem to be offended by the abrupt question, though. He grinned warmly as he looked at the picture. "That's my godson, Teddy Lupin. That picture was taken when he was visiting us during Christmas break."

The name Teddy Lupin sounded vaguely familiar. Scorpius furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to recall where he could have possibly heard the name before. A vague memory was drifting upwards, but right when he wanted to seize it, father entered the room with a scowl, shutting the door with a loud 'click'.

"Everything all right?" Harry asked casually, but his posture screamed alertness and Scorpius blinked, gazing back and forth between the two men.

Father breathed out slowly and the scowl slowly faded out into some faint lines on his forehead. "Yes, I'm fine. Kingsley just had some questions for me." Grey eyes fell on Scorpius and the older man blinked, clearly bemused at seeing Scorpius standing next to his colleague's desk instead of sitting at his own. A wry smile tugged at his mouth. "Showing him the Weasley family tree, Harry? Please don't confuse him too much with so many different ginger haired people."

Green eyes rolled. "Not to worry, Draco. I'm sure he won't become confused considering which family he belongs to."

Father narrowed his eyes slightly as he sank down into his chair. "Are you insulting the Malfoy family, Potter?" he questioned; a dangerous lilt in his voice.

"I wouldn't dare to insult such a majestic name," Harry replied solemnly and before father could retort, the dark haired man addressed Scorpius again in a conspiring voice, "Now tell me: did your dad's hair turn pink again and did you manage to take a picture of it?"

That startled a laugh out of Scorpius and made father launch into a rant about Harry needing to acquire a decent sense of humour, because "No, Potter, laughing at my misfortune does _not_ count as having a good sense of humour. I expect better of you than some plebeian sort of humour."

Harry's remark that father was just mad that pink wasn't his colour only fuelled his ire and for the remaining time the two adults threw quips and barbs at each other while Scorpius giggled softly; the atmosphere light and fun despite the remarks being exchanged.

He never did get around to finishing his chapter, but he also couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun.

* * *

From then on, Harry became somewhat of a regular visitor at Malfoy Manor. It didn't surprise Scorpius anymore to see the dark haired man reclining in the couch whenever he stayed in the manor. In fact Scorpius caught himself being disappointed if his week at the manor went by without seeing the older man.

Harry's presence seemed to change the atmosphere in the manor as well. It wasn't as if the manor felt oppressive or cold or heavy, but ever since his parents had got divorced, something had definitely felt off at the manor. As if something was missing, but the blond boy could never place his finger on what exactly was missing. Whatever the void was, Harry's presence easily filled it and it changed how the manor felt.

The manor became a warmer place; a real home that Scorpius could never wait to return to. He liked living with his mother in the manor that had belonged to her family; it wasn't as large as Malfoy Manor, but it had become his home as well. But he couldn't help but long at times to be at Malfoy Manor where his father was and Harry now sometimes as well.

Malfoy Manor had his familiar bedroom; the sweet house elves who didn't mind sneaking him candy late at night; his father who seemed a lot calmer now, less standoffish and cool; a Quidditch pitch and brooms he was allowed to use as much as he wanted, provided that the weather was good and he had done his homework. Mother had never liked Quidditch and she definitely did not like him spending so much time on his broom.

When he was at the manor, though, nobody looked at him disapprovingly if he said he wanted to go flying. In fact, chances were big that father would offer to fly with him if he had time. Flying with father was fun – flying with father and Harry was more fun, because the two men often ended up having mock matches where they each tried to catch the Snitch. Scorpius could only hang there, suspended in the air on his broom, watching in awe how both men raced from one side of the field to the other, ribbing each other good-naturedly as they tried to beat the other in catching the Snitch.

There seemed not a trace left of their rivalry and it made Scorpius silently wonder whether mother had exaggerated their rivalry.

* * *

Sometimes Harry even helped him with his homework if the man had time before he had to leave to go home. At times he even told the boy about his sons: a prank James had attempted to pull together with one of his uncles before he had been caught by his grandmother; Albus who had got into a fierce argument with his cousin about whether vanilla or chocolate ice cream was the best …

Scorpius liked hearing those stories; Harry's sons sounded amazing and it made him wish that he could meet them. He would like to be their friend; they didn't sound as if they would ignore him merely because he was a Malfoy. Maybe they would actually like him back; that would be amazing.

"Do you think I can meet Harry's sons soon?" Scorpius inquired curiously one evening as father tucked him into bed.

Outside the December wind was howling madly.

Father gave him a bemused look as he pulled the blanket up until it covered his shoulders; one of his hands was tightly bandaged – a wound from a battle he had been in today. "Maybe. I don't see why not. Is there a specific reason why you want to meet them?"

Scorpius squirmed and his cheeks heated up in embarrassment as he glanced away. "I want to be friends with them," he admitted nearly inaudibly. "They seem nice. But I don't know if they'll like me too."

It was silent for a moment before father shocked him by ruffling his hair. "Of course they'll like you," Father reassured him; confidence ringing through his voice. "They would be mad not to like you. I'll ask Harry about a meeting between you three, all right?"

"Okay," Scorpius murmured shyly, shuffling deeper underneath the blanket.

Father's steel grey eyes softened. "Good night, Scorpius."

"Night, father."

The candles in his room went out one for one until only one remained, casting a soft glow that nearly reached his bed.

The boy turned on his side, gripping the edge of the blankets tightly between his fingers. Tomorrow Harry would visit the manor again; he had promised that two weeks ago. Maybe soon he would bring his two sons with him too and then perhaps for the first time in his life, Scorpius would be able to make friends of his own.

A smile still graced his lips as he fell into the sweet embrace of sleep.

Meeting Harry had definitely brought a change in his life.

A change he happily welcomed.

**Author's Note:**

> AN2: I hope this was worth the wait! Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
> 
> Next one which will - hopefully - be up soon will be Draco's pov :)
> 
> I hope to see you in the rest of my stories!
> 
> Cuddles
> 
> Melissa


End file.
